The Evolution of Our Holiday Traditions: From Doing It All to What Matters Most

I used to think “holiday traditions” meant doing all the things.

All the parties.
All the lights.
All the advent activities.
All the magic for my kids, my family, my friends….

For years, I built our December around what everyone else seemed to be doing: driving from house to house on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, squeezing in every event, saying yes to every invite, and trying to engineer a Pinterest-worthy season on top of full-time work and parenting.

As a Manifesting Generator in Human Design (aka someone wired to do a lot, fast, and with enthusiasm), I went all in:

• Hosting Christmas Eve in our tiny house and inviting everyone and their cousin.
  
  
• Big, elaborate advent calendars.
  
  
• Traveling or planning big outings for my sons’ December birthdays.
  
  
• Over-the-top birthday parties and family gatherings.
  
  
• Holiday cards with perfectly staged photos.
  
  
• Work holiday parties, friend holiday parties, family holiday parties.
  
  
• ALL the light shows, holiday events, and Santa visits.
  
  
• Gingerbread houses, sugar cookies for Santa, every “magical moment” I could cram in.
  
  

And year after year, I burned out.

I still remember two years in a row where I ended up with the flu by New Year’s. Not just “a little tired”, completely wiped out. After that second year, I had this moment where my body and energy came together and said:

“You cannot keep doing December like this.”

So I made a decision.

If I was going to be the one curating these holiday traditions for my family, those traditions needed to serve us, not some invisible standard in my head.

I decided that the traditions we kept had to:

1. Help me stay present and healthy.
   
   
2. Truly connect our family.
   
   
3. Be sustainable for the actual humans in our house right now.
   
   

This post is a window into the traditions we’ve kept, the ones we’ve gently released, and how I think about it now, as a busy corporate working mom who has finally learned that just because I can do it all doesn’t mean I should.

This isn’t a prescription. It’s simply an invitation to look at your own holidays and ask:

What actually matters to us, and what can we let go of this year?

The Traditions We’ve Kept (and Why)

1. Hosting Christmas Eve at Our House

Growing up, Christmas Eve was magical.

I grew up Catholic, so the family would go to 4:00 p.m. Mass. I’d be in the choir, dressed up, singing carols, and then we’d head to my dad’s side of the family to celebrate. The excitement, the anticipation of Santa, the warmth of being together, it was everything.

Years later, married and buying our first house, with a little kiddo in tow, I knew I wanted to recreate that same sense of warmth and anticipation, but here, with my little family.

So we started hosting Christmas Eve.

In the beginning, it was… chaotic.

Our house is small, but I was inviting anyone and everyone who could possibly come. I wanted the menu to be perfect. The atmosphere perfect. The gifts perfect. Every corner decorated perfectly. (If you’re noticing a theme, yes, my inner overachiever was in full control.)

Over time, though, life shifted. Some friends chose to spend Christmas Eve elsewhere. Family dynamics changed. At first that made me sad, it felt like something was “less than” if it wasn’t big and bustling.

But now?
I absolutely love what it’s become.

Christmas Eve is intimate.
It’s a small group of immediate family and friends.
We keep a similar menu each year.

We drink, we eat, we open gifts, I light a fire, and we just hang out. It’s not Instagram-perfect, but it feels honest and grounded and deeply ours.

2. The “Always” Foods on Our Table

Food is a big part of our holiday experience, but I’ve learned that “tradition” doesn’t mean 17 side dishes and a panic attack.

There are a few things we almost always have:

• A meat and cheese board that I decorate a bit for the holidays.
  
  
• Champagne (I love having champagne on Christmas Eve, it feels festive and celebratory).
  
  
• A very specific baked ziti recipe.
  
  
• My once-a-year, wildly indulgent mashed potatoes (they’re… intense; hence the annual appearance only).
  
  
• Mississippi roast.
  
  
• Meatballs (I married into an Italian family so, obviously, meatballs).
  
  
• Sugar cookies for the kids to frost for Santa.
  
  

Outside of that, I keep it simple. I have a few “anchor” dishes everyone loves, and I let the rest be flexible. Some years I add something, some years I don’t.

The point isn’t the perfect spread.
The point is: we’re together, and there’s something we look forward to.

3. Decorating in a Way That Fits Our Life

We typically put up our Christmas tree right after Thanksgiving. I used to feel this pressure to have the house fully decorated, top to bottom, by December 1.

Now? I decorate slowly.

We bring things out in layers. The tree. A few special pieces. The kids help with the ornaments. I’ve let go of the expectation that every corner needs to be styled.

Our tradition is less “the house looks like a magazine” and more “we put up what we love, when we have energy, together.”

4. Our Holiday Movie Ritual

We’re a big holiday movie family.

I keep our Christmas DVDs in a box and hook up a DVD player to the TV. (Yes, we still do DVDs.) Throughout the season, whenever someone wants to watch a holiday movie, we pull out the box.

Some of our favorites:

• Elf
  
  
• A Christmas Story
  
  
• The Santa Clause
  
  
• And a rotating mix of other classics and kid favorites
  
  

There’s something really sweet about the kids rummaging through the DVD box and deciding what they’re in the mood for. It’s simple, but it’s become one of those “this is just what we do” things.

5. A Quiet Tradition Just for Me

Last year, I started something that I hope becomes a permanent tradition: a spa service right after the holidays.

Nothing fancy, just something that’s mine.

After pouring so much energy into December, I wanted a moment that said, “You’re allowed to receive, too.” As someone with an emotional authority in Human Design (meaning my decisions and energy ride emotional waves), I’ve noticed I process the whole season after it’s over.

That spa day has become my little exhale. A place to reset my nervous system and walk into the new year feeling cared for, not emptied out.

The Traditions We’ve Let Go Of

There are also things I used to do that I just… don’t anymore.

The biggest one? Holiday cards.

Once upon a time, I did the whole thing:

• Scheduling photo sessions
  
  
• Coordinating outfits
  
  
• Picking the “perfect” picture
  
  
• Ordering the cards
  
  
• Updating addresses
  
  
• Labeling, stamping, mailing
  
  

It was a lot. And at some point I realized: this does not bring me joy. This brings me stress.

So I stopped.

No big announcement. No “maybe next year.” Just… no more holiday cards.

And you know what? The world did not end.

We’ve also let go of:

• Trying to attend every holiday event we’re invited to.
  
  
• Booking every light show, Santa visit, and holiday experience within a 50-mile radius.
  
  
• Hosting everyone under the sun for every holiday.
  
  

Not because those things are bad, but because they weren’t sustainable for us.

Our capacity shifted as the kids got older, our work lives evolved, and we got honest about what we could actually hold without me getting sick or resentful.

What Makes a Tradition Worth Keeping?

I have a simple “filter” now for traditions:

1. Does it bring us joy?
   Not “do I feel guilty if we don’t do it?” but does someone in this house genuinely light up because of this?
   
   
2. Does it connect us?
   Are we interacting, laughing, creating memories? Or am I mostly just barking orders and cleaning up?
   
   
3. Is it sustainable?
   Can we reasonably do this every year (or at least most years) without me completely draining myself?
   
   

For me, this is the difference between a tradition and an obligation.

• A tradition feels like, “I’m so glad we do this.”
  
  
• An obligation feels like, “We have to do this or people will be disappointed.”
  
  

Creating Space for New Traditions

One of the most beautiful things about letting go is that it creates space for what wants to emerge now.

Some new traditions have emerged organically as our kids get older:

• Asking them what they want to do for their birthdays.
  
  
• Letting them choose a holiday movie or dessert.
  
  
• Building in more unstructured “hang out in pajamas” time.
  
  

We also invite their input more:

• “If you could pick one thing to definitely do this December, what would it be?”
  
  
• “What’s something you did last year that you’d be fine skipping this year?”
  
  

And honestly, I’m trying to treat flexibility itself as a tradition.

We don’t have to lock into something forever for it to “count.” A tradition can be a 3-year run of something that worked beautifully, and then it can evolve.

The Simplest Tradition of All: Togetherness

If I had to name our “anchor” tradition, the one that matters most, it’s actually two-fold:

Our combined family birthday celebration
We have a cluster of birthdays around this time: Joey, James, my dad, my brother. At some point we realized: instead of four separate big things, we could create one celebration where we all come together and honor everyone. It’s fun, it’s efficient, and it feels like us.

 Christmas Eve at home

Not the version where I was trying to impress anyone, the version we have now. The same cozy menu, the fire, the champagne, the kids excited for Santa, the DVDs, the sugar cookies, the messy counters, the pile of wrapping paper.

It’s not the most photogenic, but it’s the most ours.

Simplicity wins more than we give it credit for.

And as I move deeper into my 40s, I’m realizing: part of my role is to show other women that it’s okay, even powerful, to choose what fits your family, not what performs best externally.

A Gentle Holiday Reflection for You

Traditions are meant to serve us, not stress us.

If your December feels like a constant sprint, consider this your permission slip to pause and ask:

• What traditions are we keeping because they truly bring joy and connection?
  
  
• What have quietly become obligations we’re ready to release?
  
  
• Where could we create a little more space, for rest, for health, for actually enjoying the people we love?
  
  

You don’t have to overhaul everything in one year.

You can start small:

• Skip one card, one event, one extra errand.
  
  
• Protect one quiet night at home.
  
  
• Add one tiny tradition that feels like a warm exhale instead of another checkbox.
  
  

And if you’re reading this as a corporate working mom who is exhausted by mid-December: you are not alone.

Your presence is what your kids will remember, not how many events you packed in, not how perfectly decorated your house was, and definitely not whether you mailed holiday cards.

This year, may your traditions fit you.
And may there be enough space for you to actually enjoy them.

With love,

Erin